


The Silence After

by nicky69



Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: Gen, post-episode AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-12
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-03-22 13:13:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3730234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nicky69/pseuds/nicky69
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Home is no longer a haven to me, instead I wander its lonely rooms, a shade myself, for the best of me lies mouldering under the Texas earth. I will not cry. </p><p>AU Post Grave Danger..</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Silence After

****

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

 

How many times in my life have I said those very words? Even as they passed my lips I knew they were nothing more than a generic platitude; something, sometimes all, I had to offer the families who mourned for the fallen and the lost. Until this day I never truly understood how grossly inadequate they were.

 

“I’m so sorry for your loss.”

 

How glibly the words fall from our lips, a textbook response in the face of grief. The only people that they comfort are their speaker; duty done, they can safely distance themselves from the recipients. It’s as if loss and death are some hideous plague and they fear contamination.

 

Perhaps it’s just human nature to turn away from the sight of so much naked pain; we are afraid that if we look too closely we will see the true face of human frailty and be forced to face our own inadequacies and mortality.

 

He should be here by my side.

 

He should be standing beside me, my anchor in this debilitating sea of unfamiliar emotion and confusion. I find myself turning to speak with him, as I have so often in the past, needing his guidance and his unfailing support. But I am alone and so stand stricken at his absence.

 

I feel raw; my heart is in shreds and I wonder why it still beats within me now that love is gone. My entire being cries out for him and his absence resonates within me, shaking my world apart. Nausea is my constant companion; my guts churn and my chest is tight and painful. I ache for him- I ache for what once was and will never be again.

 

The sky should be grey on a day such as this, not this vibrant blue. The very earth should mourn his passing as I do--he was life itself to me--but the world spins on, oblivious. Only those who loved him note his passing. It seems so unfair, so wrong that he is gone while the wicked live on unrepentant and unconcerned.      

 

But then, when has life ever been fair?

 

Here under the azure Texas sky I say my goodbye to the love of my life. I have so many regrets, chief among them the fact that I waited so long to tell him how I felt about him; afraid of rejection, afraid that I wasn’t good enough for him. So many days and opportunities lost, as we danced around one another and our feelings, carelessly assuming that we had all the time in the world; we were wrong.

 

I linger long after the crowd of mourners has dissipated, unable yet to face the prospect of the journey home. No- that’s not true. What I am unable to face is the prospect of his absence from our home. Here in this unfamiliar place it is easier to copesomehow. Here there are no memories of days past to intrude on my present. His foot never fell here, his voice never spoke and the silence of this graveyard is peaceful; almost.

 

And again I stand stricken, missing him!

 

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

 

Home is no longer a haven to me, instead I wander its lonely rooms, a shade myself, for the best of me lies mouldering under the Texas earth. I will not cry.

 

I will not cry.

 

I tell myself this ten, twenty, a hundred times a day. It’s a pointless exercise; the tears come unbidden and unpredictably. Sometimes I feel that I shall weep enough to drown all the sorrows of the world, and still the well of grief within me runs deep and never- ending.

 

I miss him. I miss him. I miss him!

 

The house feels empty without him, a cliché I know, but true never the less. His possessions are all around me, pants, shirts, shoes; the mundane minutia of everyday life, treasures to me now that he is gone. His favourite aftershave, the book that he was reading, his toothbrush in the bathroom- all lie untouched and untouchable.

 

I can’t throw them away, to do so seems an unthinkable betrayal, but I can’t bear to see them every time I turn around either. Their presence mocks me, and is a constant reminder of my loss.

 

I half expect to find him sprawled out on the sofa in front of the TV, a cold beer in one hand, a bowl of popcorn sitting before him. I can picture perfectly the expression on is face as he turns to greet me, so welcoming and filled with happiness. But it is not to be and my heart shatters anew, the grief is as fresh now as it has ever been and I fear that I will never be whole again.

 

I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to be or how to move on. I’m not sure that I can.

 

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

 

It’s been 6 months since that fateful day and my life has fallen back into its old pattern; pre Nick. I work, study, eat and sleep, it’s not the life that I want any more, but it’s enough, it has to be. The lab is its perpetually busy self and I allow my work to consume me. I throw myself into it with thinly veiled relief, embracing the long hours that keep me from home.

 

It shocks me how quickly I’ve adjusted to his absence- in my head at least. I know that he is not coming back and yet the my foolish heart beats frantically every time I open the door; hoping that the past months have all been some horrible dream, and Nick will be there waiting for me. The disappointment when all that greets me is an empty apartment is crushing, but I endure it. There's no other option.

 

I try to keep myself busy, hoping to wear myself out physically so that when I eventually go to bed I will sleep. Sometimes I do, sometimes I don’t; those nights are the worst. Lying in the darkness, in my too empty bed, my traitorous mind will not give me peace and my wounded heart cries out some relief. The clock on the night stand shines out, the numbers ticking by too, too slowly. They are my only companion and witness to my misery.

 

Lying in the suffocating darkness, I toss and turn, trying unsuccessfully to find a comfortable position to rest in. But the pillows that just yesterday seemed perfectly fine are now unaccountably too flat, too hard, too – something, I don’t know. The only noises to be heard are the rustle of fabric as I try ineffectively to find a comfy spot and the sound of my own restless breathing, both overloud in the oppressive gloom.

 

I feel lost.

 

Here in the shadowy, ephemeral hours that separate the night and the day, between the waking world and sleep's blessed oblivion, I can no longer pretend that I’m fine. I’m not…I know now that I never will be. Oh, I’ll carry on with the routine of living; I’ll get up, go to work and someday, perhaps my good cheer will not be a pretence, but for now each smile is nothing more than a sham. The truth is that without him here beside me my life seems meaningless.

 

I never realised how deeply he was woven into the fabric of my life- my heart, until he was gone. I miss the warmth of his body lying next to mine. I miss the love that we shared; I miss his kisses, his smiles. But more than any of that, more than just the physical, I miss the soft sound of his breathing, his sighs and the warmth of his breath ghosting over my skin as we held each other, just the two of us against the world.

 

I miss that connection, the quiet intimacy of conversation and shared hopes and dreams. We were building a life together and now that future, all our plans have come to nought. All I have left are the memories of what was and a lifetimes worth of unfulfilled promise.

 

In the heavy silence the tears come, uninvited and inexorable- a maelstrom of conflicting emotions; fear, grief, confusion, anger, pain. They rip apart what little composure remains to me, crushing my fragile, careworn soul.

 

I give voice to my sorrow, my strangled cries echoing in the dark, my tears a bitter release, bring me no relief. Eventually, exhausted I sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Written way back in 2009, Beta by the lovely Elmyraemilie


End file.
